


Brand Ambassador

by w_k_smith



Category: Gotham City Sirens (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Fluff, Happy Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 17:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19300303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_k_smith/pseuds/w_k_smith
Summary: Harley Quinzel is promoting energy drinks at Gotham Pride when someone interesting comes her way.





	Brand Ambassador

“I need more _purple_ ,” Harley muttered to herself, digging under the table. Her supervisor had loaded her down with a rainbow of colored plastic cups, but the purple ones were crammed at the bottom of the cardboard box. Harley wasn’t looking forward to being stuck in this booth all day. Gotham Pride had been scheduled for a lovely June afternoon, but it was _hot_ , and most of the booth’s legroom was taken up by a giant cooler full of cans of Blam! Energy.

Harley had been a Blam! Energy brand ambassador for almost six months. Passing out free cans of cold sugar and caffeine on college campuses and during sporting events wasn’t her favorite job, but medical school wasn’t cheap. For once, as the temperature climbed through the 80’s, she didn’t resent the uniform of short-shorts and a cropped t-shirt.

“Free Blam!” she called as sunburned people with rainbow flags walked past the booth. “Blam! believes that love is love! Blam! honors the spirit of Stonewall! Blam! celebrates the freedom to march, marry, and…energize,” Harley said, forcing herself through the corporate script. She shook her head, cracked open a can, and poured it into the purple cups. Not only were the cups festive, they disguised the fact that outside of a container, Blam! looked awfully like carbonated urine. Harley suppressed the urge to sniff the drink just to make sure.

“Can I have one?”

The woman who’d stopped in front of the booth was almost mythically gorgeous: willowy, redheaded, delicate features. She was the kind of beautiful that Ancient Greeks wrote poems about, the kind of beautiful that existed on nymphs and goddesses, the kind of beautiful that made Narcissus drown himself.

Harley straightened her sunglasses and hoped her makeup wasn’t running. “Sure! And happy–”

The woman plucked a purple cup off the table and poured the contents in a nearby trashcan.

“…Pride,” Harley finished, as the women delicately dropped the plastic cup into the recycling can.

“Can I have another one?” the woman asked.

“Um…yes?” Harley said, not sure what was going on.

“Excellent.” The woman picked up a yellow cup, dumped the Blam! in the trashcan, and put the cup in the recycling bin.

Harley leaned on the table, and tilted her head to one side. “There a point to this, hon?”

“I am sick and tired of the corporatization of Pride,” the woman said. She picked up two more cups – green and blue. “These companies ignore us the other eleven months.” She tossed the cups. “And then they try to monetize empty political words. It’s ridiculous. And Blam!’s parent company has been sucking the water out of drought-ridden areas in–”

Harley pushed the cups to the side, and dropped the cooler full of Blam! cans on the table.

“This job was _boring_ anyway,” Harley said.

She jumped over the table and smiled at the woman. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“Pamela,” she said, looking somewhat bemused.

“OK, Pam-a-lot, I’m Harley. Wanna walk around? Catch some of the Jolly Ranchers PFLAG Gotham always throws off their parade float?”

Pamela crossed her arms. Harley worried she’d say no.

“Why ever not?” Pamela said.

“Excellent!” Harley linked arms with Pamela, who smiled.


End file.
